


Phases of the Moon

by Dulcinea



Series: Universe 6 Saga [2]
Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Angst, F/M, Family Drama, Heartbreak, M/M, Romance, Saiyan Culture, Saiyan Lore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:00:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28212834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dulcinea/pseuds/Dulcinea
Summary: When Vegeta and Goku returned from Universe 6 with the news that they were now 'mah'kha'--Sadalan for 'mates'--they changed the lives of their loved ones forever. These are the stories of those impacted.A collection of various character POVs short stories from "The Nature of Moonlight."
Relationships: Bulma Briefs/Vegeta, Chi-Chi/Son Goku (Dragon Ball), Son Goku/Vegeta (Dragon Ball), Videl Satan/Son Gohan
Series: Universe 6 Saga [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2066706
Comments: 9
Kudos: 39





	1. Phase One: Chichi

It was in the middle of the day that Chichi’s life changed forever. She was on the tail end of cleaning the dishes from that morning’s breakfast, humming a small tune from her childhood, when she heard the faint sound of Goku’s voice from outside. When she lifted her head, she found him knee-deep in conversation with Vegeta out in the field. She frowned, watching how Goku sighed, how Vegeta smirked at him, and she froze when Goku’s line of sight caught hers, and her stomach dropped at the look on his face.

She knew that look. After the Saiyans arrived. After the Androids. After Buu. The look of sorry. The look of forgiveness.

The plate in her hand cracked at the edges. Pieces trickled into the metal sink.

Goku barely had a moment to explain himself before she bellowed into his face, “You are NOT going. I don’t care what it is!”

“But Chichi—”

“You have to finish the harvest—”

“I know—”

“And help me around the house and be with your sons and—”

“I know!”

“I don’t care if the Galactic Patrol needs you for something again, they can wait—”

“It’s not them—”

“Good! Because you just finished with that Moro guy and—”

“Chi, please, it’s for Vegeta!”

That stopped her mid-sentence. Her flailing arms flopped to her sides, her head tilting slightly. “Vegeta? What does he want?”

“He accepted an invitation to go to Universe 6.” Goku smiled. “Remember when I fought in that tournament with Beerus’s brother and we met that other Saiyan? Well, his king invited Vegeta and I so we could go meet the Saiyans in their universe, and…” He scratched the back of his head, that smile waning a little. “Er, Vegeta accepted for both of us.”

Chichi growled.

“I know, I know, he should’ve asked—”

“How long?”

“Eh?” Goku blinked a few times.

“How long would you two be gone?”

“Oh! Two weeks, I think. Whis told Vegeta their days are similar to ours.”

“Hmph.” She crossed her arms. “The second you’re back, you are going right back to work. Understood?”

“Yes Chichi, of course!” He closed the gap between them, hugging his large arms around her shoulders, pulling her in close—and she gasped when he lifted her off the ground with ease, swinging her in a circle. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Chichi smiled, her anger dissipating with her sigh. Goku kissed her cheek, and she returned in kind, kissing the corner of his mouth. Two weeks. No monsters to fight. No villains to stop. Just her Goku and Vegeta going to another universe to meet other Saiyans. He’d be safe. He’d be fine.

If she had known what was coming the next day—if she had known that it would be the last time she would hear Goku’s snores, the last time she would pack for him, the last time she’d make him breakfast, the last time she’d wake him up before he was late, the last time she’d watch him eat in a panic while still dressing as fast as possible, the last time she’d feel his lips on her cheek and the last time she’d see his big grin before he instant transmissioned away—she would’ve made him stay. She wouldn’t have let him go.

She never would’ve given Goku the opportunity to learn the truth. A truth she had no idea existed. A truth that changed her life—their life—forever.

Chichi never would’ve let Goku know what true love was.

***

The two weeks came and went faster than Chichi anticipated. When the day arrived for the boys to return from Universe 6, she arrived a little bit early with Goten, letting her little son go to play with Trunks while she chatted with Bulma. Soon, Krillin, Eighteen and Marron arrived, then Gohan, Videl, Mr. Satan, Buu and Pan, then Piccolo.

Piles of food sat on top of many cloth-covered tables outside Capsule Corp lawn. Music played from a stereo system not too far away. Gohan doted on his daughter. Goten flew around in the air with Trunks, Piccolo watching the two of them with a watchful eye. Her heart beat wildly, anticipating his arrival, his return. What things he might’ve learned. What kind of things he saw there. Hoping he didn’t need to fight anyone. Hoping he actually _was_ coming home, an old hope she wore well, a scar on her mind and body that never really healed well or right.

But then the cube arrived. It materialized itself over the lawn. It descended to the ground, right in front of them all, and she grinned from ear-to-ear, watching Trunks and Goten zoom over to the cube’s side, asking a million questions a minute.

Whis exited first, Beerus second. She watched them walk in the direction of Bulma with Bulla. But her eyes widened, and her smile waned, when she watched Goku exit next, dressed not in his usual orange gi, but in some sort of… armor.

Gold straps attached to heavy silver plating and an ivory underpiece, with three long pieces of leather fanning out over the pelvic region, a gold belt around the waist. Underneath that laid a black long-sleeve undersuit with a length that ended around his ankles. Black boots with gold trimmings shined in the sunlight, as did the iridescent white stone around his neck.

He walked down the ramp, and Chichi frowned at the way he moved. The air around him. He carried with him a ridiculous amount of bags, and he didn’t seem to have a scratch on him, but something was different. Something was off.

Then he broke out into his wide, heartwarming grin, and shouted, “Hey everyone! I got gifts for ya!”

Her worry dissipated for now as she watched Goku fall to his knees and gather up Goten into his arms. She walked over, listening to her two boys chatter up a storm. Gohan, Videl, Pan and Mr. Satan soon followed her.

The worry came back when Goku saw her—and she witnessed something flicker across his face for a moment. Something she couldn’t name. Something… not Goku.

“Hi Chi,” he said.

“Welcome home, sweetie.”

He chuckled—and her eyes widened when Goku leaned into kiss her, right on the corner of her lips. A quick, small kiss, something he rarely if ever did in public, in front of anyone.

When he pulled back, she saw that look again. That weird… something. The air around him changed. Something wrong. Something foreign.

Then he smiled again like his old self, acting like his old self. He chatted with his friends, played with Goten, cuddled Pan, listened to Gohan, ate up a crazy amount of food. Everything Chichi knew. Everything Chichi expected from a man she had been with since they were teenagers. She knew him. She understood him.

It’s why towards the tail end of the party, when she and Goku and Bulma and Vegeta were the last ones around, she was honest-to-goodness surprised when Goku asked, “How about we let Goten stay the night here with Trunks?”

She thought the best at first. Maybe Goku missed her. Maybe Goku wanted to spend time with her alone. Maybe he had lots of stories to tell about what happened in universe 6. A lot of maybe’s and what could it be’s. So she agreed, amused at Goten’s elation and Goku’s warm smile to her.

Those hopes died when Goku whispered into her ear, “We need to talk.”

The air around him changed again. The weird and the offness of it all. Goku was still smiling at her, but that look was on his face again. She nodded, standing up from the table with him, said her goodbyes to Bulma and Vegeta, and in an instant, they teleported away, right into the kitchen of their home on Mount Paozu.

Goku’s hand on her waist slipped away. “Sit down, Chi,” he said, walking away from her. “I have some things to tell you.”

She watched him sit on the opposite end of their kitchen table, the side of his chair echoing in the thick heavy silence of the room. His shoulders rounded forward, his head hung low, his face looked… grim. Sad.

Afraid.

Uneasiness upset her stomach. Her throat closed up. There was a tremble in her hands as she pulled her own chair out, taking a seat across from him.

Her heart beat loud in her ears. Thumped and punched her own chest. Watched him wipe a hand over his face. Watched and heard him take a long, deep breath, and her lungs constricted at the sound of his sigh.

Goku didn’t even look her in the eye when he spoke. “I learned a lot of things while I was gone.” He sounded so sad. “Things I had no idea about.”

She found it difficult to speak, her throat too tight, her mouth too dry. Chichi licked her lips and cleared her throat before asking, “Like what?”

A small smile. “Well, my Saiyan heritage, for one. Our Saiyans could’ve turned out completely different. We could’ve been protectors rather than destroyers.”

“Really?”

“Mhm.” That smile turned wistful. “I got to learn about my parents too. Bardock and Gine. They were not normal Saiyans on Planet Vegeta. They were kind-hearted, especially my mom. They actually sent me to Earth not to conquer it like I thought, but to save me from being killed with the rest of the planet. My dad somehow found out and they smuggled me away to Earth so I could live.”

“Oh my God.”

“Right?” He chuckled. “They never really fit in with our universe, but they would’ve fit in perfectly in Universe 6.”

“That’s amazing, sweetie.”

“Yeah. It was… tough, honestly. I got my memories back and it hurt, but I’m glad I have them now. I know what they look like and how they sound and I wouldn’t trade that for anything, y’know?”

The image of her long-passed mother filtered through her mind, and she smiled, nodding. “I do.”

He scratched the back of his head. His smile waned.

She hated this. This silence. The unnerving tension.

Goku still wouldn’t meet her eye. Still wouldn’t lift his head.

Another long sigh from Goku, one that seemed to move his entire body. She watched his eyes close, listened to his uneven breathing, and almost missed his next whisper: “I learned something else, too.”

“Yes?”

That head finally, slowly, lifted up.

In that moment, Chichi knew that look on Goku’s face. She knew.

His next words only confirmed her thoughts.

“I cheated on you with Vegeta, Chichi.”

***

It was so quiet in the house. The cup of tea between her hands felt nice, gave her a sense of grounding, pushing away the coldness and numbness throughout her whole body. Bright sunlight filtered through the windows. Her body casted long shadows across the table.

In two hours, she’d have to pick up Goten from Capsule Corp. In two hours, she’d have to tell Goten that daddy wasn’t going to be here anymore, that daddy still loved him but was living somewhere else now, that daddy was with Mr. _Vegeta_ of all people—and do it all with a smile on her face and a reassuring tone in her voice.

She had to be strong. She knew this challenge, wore those old boots before. Goku had broke her heart many times in the past. Not coming back immediately after Namek. Not coming back after Cell. All the things with Buu. The fact that he still got into trouble and into fights constantly even after Buu. She knew how to do this. She could do this.

Chichi stared blankly ahead at the empty chair Goku occupied the night before.

His look still haunted her. The tears that fell down his face. The desperation in his voice. The hurt, the self-loathing and anger, directed all at himself.

The passion when he spoke about Vegeta. The words he said.

_He is my other half. He lets me choose. Lets me decide. He lets me **be**._

She looked down at her cup.

In her reflection, all she saw was Goku’s anguish, Goku’s tears, Goku’s bowed neck, Goku’s trembling hand over his heart, and Goku’s tears, hitting his knuckles.

_I feel it, Chi. Right here. I feel it._

The honesty, sincerity and passion, in those words. In his actions.

_It’s there. It’s real._

Goku was truly in love with him.

Her grip tightened around the mug.

In love with him in a way that she was never able to give.

_CRACK_

Chichi startled. The mug’s handle snapped off, falling to the top of the table. She sighed, standing up from her chair to dump out the drink and throw the mug away.

It wasn’t easy driving to Capsule Corp, like she expected. When Bulma met her on the front lawn, she asked, “Do you know?” and Bulma’s nod and subsequent, “It’ll be an adjustment,” only served to piss her off more. But she wasn’t able to have a full blown conversation with the woman, as Goten bounded out, smiling from ear-to-ear.

She waited until they were back home on Mount Paozu to break the news. Part of her was thrilled to see _someone_ get pissed off on her behalf. The other part didn’t like upsetting Goten like this, and she did what she could to calm down her youngest son.

At least she had this. At least someone loved her and was on her side.

***

Three months passed. By then, everyone knew what had happened, and everyone had moved on from it, accepting the new situation for what it was. Goku had a dojo for kids. He had his own place with the money she gave him. He set up a rhythm with Vegeta and Bulma and herself and the kids and their life and things were settled somewhat.

The only ones who still hadn’t moved on were Goten, and herself, except Chichi did a good job at handling herself around Goku and never let on that she was still pissed. She didn’t show her anger around him or the children or any of their friends. She never showed her resentment. She never badmouthed him. But it killed her to not yell at Vegeta, to not cry, to not let her real emotions come out.

Bulma must’ve known somehow, because the woman showed up to her door unannounced one day with a bottle of wine and some food. “You need to talk,” Bulma said, and Chichi didn’t think she was truly ready to do that.

Two glasses of wine in, she finally was able to stomach having this conversation, sitting across from Bulma in her kitchen. “How can you be okay with this?” she asked. “He cheated on you.”

“Yes he did.”

“Were you not angry? Did you not want to just…” She grit her teeth. “Rip his head off or something?”

Over the rim of her glass, Bulma asked, “Did you, with Goku?”

Chichi paused. She stared at her own glass before answering, “I was more hurt than angry.”

“Then there you go.” She took a big gulp, settling the wine glass back down to the table. “Vegeta explained everything well anyway.”

“But he broke your trust.”

“And he knew that, which is why he fessed up to it immediately and told me I deserved to be angry at him about this. But he swore that he wasn’t going to choose, and he hasn’t. It’s been three months, and I’ve _never_ seen Vegeta this attentive and kind before.” Bulma smiled. “It’s like he’s found an inner peace. Like all of his inner turmoil’s finally at rest, thanks to what happened. How can I not accept it?”

She shook her head, looking away, down to the floor. “It’s still not okay.”

“Of course it’s not. They both know they were in the wrong, especially Goku. But we have to move on. _You_ have to move on.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“It can be, if you accept being an urave—”

“And then what?” Chichi snapped her attention back to Bulma, her voice rising with every question. “Goku moves back in? I get my husband again? He won’t see Vegeta ever again? He won’t ever be with Vegeta like _that_ again, despite telling me that he is in love with him and has never felt that kind of love before in all the years of marriage we’ve had together?! He’ll actually do that because I’m his urave and not his wife?!”

“Chichi—”

“I don’t give a shit about these Saiyan customs, and I certainly don’t give a shit about _your_ arrangement with Vegeta and Goku.” She stood up from the chair. “I’m glad it’s working out for you, but it can’t for me. I either have Goku entirely, or not at all, and he made the right choice when he left three months ago.”

“For God’s sake, Chichi, stop being a spoiled brat!” Bulma shot up from her chair, knocking off her wine glass. “You could make this work, but you won’t, because you didn’t get your prince charming all to yourself! What did you expect, marrying an alien when you were a teenager? On a promise he didn’t remember and didn’t understand no less?”

“I know that! I told him that!”

“So what is your problem?!”

“I don’t HAVE A PROBLEM!” She slammed her fist down to the table, her own wine glass crashing to the ground, as well as the cutlery and some of their food. “I can’t be in a relationship with a man who cheated on me, and that’s all there is to it. Okay?!”

Bulma glared at her, those shrewd blue eyes almost peering right through her very body. “It can’t be. I know it can’t be.”

“Bulma.” Chichi sighed, running a hand over her clammy face. “It’s done. I appreciate your concern, but it’s done and over with.”

“Do you hate him?”

“Goku? Never.”

“Not Goku.”

Chichi’s hand rested back to her side. She made a point to look right at Bulma as the tension permeated throughout the quiet room.

After a minute, Bulma clicked her tongue. “Figures.” She picked up her purse. “I’ll see ya.”

It didn’t take long for Chichi to clean up the mess and focus on other tasks, getting her mind off of the argument and the feelings it brought up. But it did haunt her for the rest of the day, well into evening, to the point where Goten asked a few times if she was okay, and she was, a little bit. She was okay.

Laying in bed at night, alone, staring at the ceiling, Chichi was able to admit the truth to herself though. The truth she wasn’t comfortable telling Bulma whatsoever, and probably would never voice aloud.

_My problem is Vegeta._

***

Six months since the day Goku told her what happened, Chichi received news that tilted her world yet again, from her eldest son no less.

“Dad and Vegeta are getting married,” Gohan said over the phone.

She nearly dropped it. Her voice stammered out, “W-What?”

“Bulma said it’s technically not a marriage, but it’s close to it. They’re going to exchange vows during a ceremony on Planet Sadala and each family’s invited, so...” Gohan sighed. “Yeah.”

Chichi stared ahead, out the window to the front lawn. Goten played outside in the grass with Trunks, whom Bulma dropped off earlier in the day. Neither woman had spoken to each other since that lunch three months ago, and Chichi was fine with that.

Over the phone, Gohan asked, “You okay, mom?”

“Y-Yes.” She cleared her throat. “Just a little shocked is all.”

“I, uh. I don’t think I’m going to go.”

“Really?”

“Well, you probably won’t, right? Videl says she can go instead of me, and I can stay with you and keep you company.”

Her lips curled into a tiny smile. “Honey, that’s so sweet of you. You don’t have to do that for me.”

“Honestly, it’s fine. I kinda…” Gohan lowered his voice an octave, whispering, “I don’t really approve of their relationship. I’m sure you can understand why.”

The image of a younger Gohan floated through her mind. Memories of her hurt little boy in bed, post-fight with Vegeta. Memories of Gohan post-Namek. Memories of Gohan post-Cell. She clutched the phone a little tighter in her hand, mindful not to crack it. “Yes. I do.”

“I know dad loves him—somehow—but I still don’t think it’s right what he did to you. I haven’t said anything to him about it because I know it would upset him, but, yeah. It’s not okay.”

“I appreciate the support and the concern, sweetheart,” Chichi said, looking away from the window. “But I’ll be okay. You should go.”

“What? Why?”

“I don’t want people thinking you didn’t go because of me poisoning your mind.”

“That’s ridiculous!”

“Besides, it’ll show your dad that both of his sons love and support him, and it should help with the fact that while I’m not going, at least his eldest son was there.”

“Well… okay.” She smiled at the indignation in her son’s voice. “I don’t like it, but okay. For you, mom.”

“Thank you, Gohan. How is everything else? How’s Pan?”

“Oh she’s amazing! Yesterday, Pan…”

The rest of their conversation revolved around the things Chichi loved: stories about her granddaughter, about Videl, about Piccolo coming over many times to babysit and dote on Pan, about the latest things her son was achieving and researching now that he was a scholar. By the time she was off the phone, Goten and Trunks bounded back inside, asking for lunch, and she laughed at their antics, giving Goten a big hug and a kiss to his cheek.

Cooking distracted her from the pain in her heart, and the upset stomach, and the chill in her body. Watching over the two of them the rest of the day, monitoring them, helping them with their homework, until Bulma came by in the evening to pick up Trunks—it all did wonders in keeping her bad thoughts at bay.

It wasn’t until she was alone, and Goten was tucked fast asleep in bed, that she finally allowed the tears to spill. She didn’t sob. She didn’t cry outwardly. All she felt was anger and a need to punch as the hurt bubbled up inside her, until she needed to let it out. Until she needed to do something, anything.

Chichi used up all of her pent-up emotions and dark thoughts in a kata on the front lawn, something she hadn’t done in a long time. It was a half hour later when she finally felt better and flopped into bed, exhausted and drained.

The next morning, when Goku arrived to pick up Goten, Chichi told him, “Congratulations. Gohan told me.”

Six months later, and Goku still looked guilty when he looked at her. It didn’t please her to see it anymore. “You’re not coming, right?”

“No.”

“I figured.”

“But I am happy for you. You deserve it, Goku. Stop feeling guilty.” She forced a smile on her face. “It’s been six months, dear. Things are fine.”

That guilty look wavered a little. Goku sighed. “Okay.” He kissed her cheek. “Thanks, Chi.”

Goten bounded down the stairs, right into his father’s waiting arms. Unlike Gohan, Goten had gotten over his initial anger with his father, and now was not only accepting of his relationship with Vegeta, but an active encourager of it. She hated hearing the stories of how Vegeta was nice and kind to him and how he treated Goku with such care, but she sat through them all with a smile on her face.

Chichi waited until Goku instant transmissioned himself and Goten away for a new batch of tears to release. She let them freely fall down her cheeks as she returned to the kitchen to start preparing dinner later tonight for herself and Goten.

***

The day of the ceremony, Chichi woke up early. She stared at the sun rising from the east, rising over the swell of mountain tops, birds chirping and cooing, the trees rustling outside her open bedroom window. She wrapped her arms around herself, hands on bare biceps, staring out into the world. A year had passed now. A year and six months since the day the life she knew changed. Now, her Goku wasn’t going to be hers anymore. He was going to be someone else’s.

It didn’t matter that she was Goku’s urave. Didn’t matter that Goku still clearly loved her. Goku was in love with Vegeta. From what she understood over this last year, leading up to the ceremony, Goku was basically Vegeta’s _soulmate_ , some sort of may-kay-ah or something, and learning that helped ease away her pain. Just a little though. She still wasn’t going to attend. She wasn’t going to watch her husband of twenty-some years be with the man that stole him away from her. The man that showed her Goku what love actually was. What Chichi thought _she_ was giving him their entire marriage, but clearly, there was a difference. A big enough difference where the times she came over to pick up Goten and Goku and Vegeta were around, she could see the difference, right there, plain as day. It still hurt, seeing that love from Goku given to Vegeta, but it didn’t hurt as much as it did in the beginning, nor like it did six months ago. Things were getting better. She felt like _she_ was getting better.

But she still wasn’t going to go. That was a line she couldn’t cross, no matter how much Goten pleaded with her to come with. No matter how much she knew it would please Goku. She wasn’t going to put herself through that. She wasn’t going to see Vegeta get everything she wanted—a loving family unit, and _her_ Goku.

Goten, of course, tried one last time over breakfast. “Please mom? Pleeeeeease?”

“We’ve been over this before, sweetie. I can’t.”

“The crops will be fine! They can last a week without us around, right?”

“They can’t. I have to tend to them.”

“But mom—”

“Eat your food, dear, or you’ll be late.” She shot him a look that stopped Goten mid-sentence, and Goten gave up with a sigh, returning his attention back to his meal.

Fifteen minutes later, Goten ascended into the sky, waving goodbye to her. She waited until Goten was a speck in the air before she returned into her home, walking right to the living room.

There, she stood in the middle of it. Staring at the furniture. The walls.

All this silence.

She hugged her arms.

There were things to do. Put her hair in a bun. Do the laundry. Water some of the garden plants. Take a shower. Put on clothes. Eat something. Make a grocery list.

Chichi just stood there.

She could’ve moved. Could go do anything. The laundry. Groceries. Plants.

Slowly, she sat down on the couch.

Ahead of her, on the mantle over the fireplace, was a picture of Goku and her as teenagers. Newly married. Just moving into Mount Paozu. Goku looked so awkward in the photo, a hand behind his head, the other around her waist, and she looked so happy. So in love with him. He was smiling though. He was smiling and blushing and looked happy too. But compared to her, compared to that young girl in the photo, looking up at him like he was all she ever wanted—

Just like Goku did to Vegeta.

Just like Goku looked, every time, to Vegeta.

 _All you ever wanted was me_ , Goku said then, almost two years ago. _I could see that, the day we met at the Tenkaichi Budokai._

Her vision glossed over as she stared at that young, teenage Goku.

 _I’m all you ever wanted_ , he said, and he was right. He was everything she ever wanted. _That’s why I said yes to you, Chichi._

The tears fell as the Goku of then, that teenage, young, sweet Goku looked down at her in the framed photo, like he did then, on the day they moved into the house. The way he looked at her. The smile on his face. The awe and the shyness. _I saw how much you wanted me,_ Goku said, _and I never had someone want me like that. Before you, I had no idea what a relationship could be._ How that young Goku shyly kissed her cheek, every time they were alone. How he chuckled when she giggled. How he held her in his arms. _You taught me that. You._

She sniffed, wiping at her eyes. They were so young. Oblivious to what would come. Raditz then Vegeta then Frieza and every little thing after. So much hope for what could be. For what she wanted her whole life: him, by her side, forever.

 _But I learned on Sadala that love is a choice_ , Goku said then, almost two years ago. _Love is work. I love you, and I still do_ …

Chichi could see the Goku of now right in front of her. The Goku in that Sadalan armor, sitting across from her at the table. The anguish on his face. The passion in his voice.

_But Vegeta… I just…_

The many looks given to Vegeta. The many smiles sent to Vegeta.

Things that once belonged to her. Things that Goku still gave to her even now. He truly never did stop loving her. She could see it. That teen she fell madly in love with was still there. Still helping her. Still comforting her. Still loving her.

 _On Sadala, you’d be called my urave,_ he said, hugging her tight then, his tears wetting the top of her head. _You’re part of my family. I want that for us, Chi. For you._

Slowly, Chichi stood up.

 _Maybe_ , she said then. _It’s still raw for me._

She walked over to the framed photo. Her fingertips ran over the side of Goku’s whole body, from the top of his wild hair down to his boots.

That smile never changed. The smile Goku reserved for her never changed. Yes, he sent those looks and those smiles to Vegeta too, but they were different. They were smiles and looks that Chichi always wanted, always craved from Goku, but they weren’t hers to ever have. They were Vegeta’s.

But the smile in this photo. The smile Goku still had now. That was for her, and her alone.

Her Goku was still hers—if she wanted it.

Chichi’s lips curled into a small, weak smile. “Dammit, Goku. You always win.”

She didn’t have time to put her hair into a bun, or to iron out her clothes. She threw whatever she could into a suitcase, hopped into the car and sped as fast as possible to Capsule Corp, hoping she wasn’t too late, that the cube hadn’t taken off yet, that they were still there.

Her hopes were fulfilled when she saw Goku walking up the ramp, hand-in-hand with Vegeta, both dressed in the same clothes they arrived back from Universe 6 with almost two years ago. She haphazardly parked and stopped the car, shouting on top of her lungs, “Wait! Don’t go yet!”

Goten shouted from inside the cube, “Mom! You’re here! You made it!”

She scrambled out of the car, suitcase in hand, her messy ponytail whipping back and forth behind her. She didn’t care that she looked like she just rolled out of bed, that she could probably use a shower. She ran right up the ramp, stopping in front of Goku and Vegeta, panting for breath.

There it was. That smile from the photo. Goku smiled at her just like then. That smile, reserved only for her and her alone. “Chichi…” His eyes glossed over, glancing at her back, looking her up and down, shaking his head. The disbelief in his voice. The elation. “You’re coming with us.”

Chichi smiled, her breathing calming down, “I’m your oo-rah-vee, aren’t I?”

From beside Goku, Vegeta grunted out, “Urave.” The correct pronunciation.

Her smile died off as she looked at Vegeta dead on, her jaw setting firm. Her days as a princess and all the training that came with it—decorum, posture, zero emotion, impassive, impartial—rose up out of her with ease as she said, “And you’re his mah’kha.”

It took all of her willpower not to smirk when Vegeta sneered and looked away. “Hn.”

“You said that perfectly,” Goku said, coming a bit closer to her. She knew they were still holding hands, and she didn’t mind seeing the sight. There’d be worse coming with the ceremony. Instead, she focused on the happiness radiating from her Goku, and the way he whispered those two simple words, full of love, for her. “Thank you.”

His soft lips kissed her cheek. In that moment, she almost felt like that teenager again, blushing and giggling around her long time crush. She stayed composed though and waited for Goku to lean back, so she could continue walking up the ramp.

As she passed Goku, Vegeta caught her gaze. He briefly nodded to her, and she didn’t miss the way he squeezed Goku’s hand hard in his.

Chichi merely nodded back and turned her attention away, entering the cube, coming right to Goten’s side. She smiled when Goten hugged her tight around the waist, and she hugged him back, kissing the top of his head.

“I’m so happy you came, mom,” he said.

She smiled. “Me too, sweetie.”

***

The ceremony was exactly what Chichi expected. Not in terms of how it went down, because all of that—the markings in weird paint, the drinking to ancestors, the words spoken, the binding of their arms—all of that was very strange and very beautiful at the same time. But she expected to be in pain for most of it, and she was, but not at the level she expected to be in. Yelling in Vegeta’s face earlier did help, after all.

What she didn’t expect was how at peace she felt, especially when she was asked by that priestess to say the words Bulma did earlier, in response to if she, as Goku’s urave, consents to their binding for the ceremony. She wasn’t about to speak Sadalan in case she’d butcher the language. Her royal upbringing taught her well enough: if you don’t know it, don’t say it. She knew she was going to say the words in her own language, and she said them right as she looked at Vegeta, dead in the eye.

“I consent, and gladly give.”

Vegeta gave her the slightest of nods, and she returned in kind.

She would never like him, but he was Goku’s mah’kha, and she was going to respect it. Especially now, with this ceremony.

Sitting down after that, next to Gohan, and enduring the rest of the ceremony, proved easy. It was a very beautiful ceremony, though she had zero idea what was said through all of it. Goku looked happy though, and that mattered most to her. She was concerned when both Goku and Vegeta started to glow these weird swirl of colors, but they didn’t seem to look in pain, so she calmed herself down. Then the priestess reached her hands up to the sky, colorful light cascaded around them all like falling stars, and once the light faded, the priestess said something, and she felt her own eyes water when she saw Goku’s tears there, waiting to fall. He looked so happy. So in love. He deserved to feel this finally, to understand the love she had for him all these years, to know that he could have that love himself, that he was capable of that kind of love.

Then, the priestess said something, and her tears fell as Goku’s did, watching him gasp, watching his mouth part, watching him look at Vegeta like he was the most important thing in the universe, just like she did to him for years. Just like she hoped Goku would give to her once, but it wasn’t for her to have. It was Vegeta’s now.

She gravitated her attention to Vegeta—and froze, a small gasp leaving her parted lips.

Tears. On Vegeta’s face.

There were tears rolling down _Vegeta’s_ face.

He wept like Goku did. In front of them all. In front of the many thousands of Saiyans below, watching them. He wept and smiled and looked at Goku the exact same way Goku looked at him. Like he too was the most important thing in the universe, but different than Goku’s, somehow a little different—and it hit her like a punch to the gut, what it was.

Vegeta looked at Goku like he wasn’t just the most important thing in the universe. He looked at Goku like he was _his_ universe. His to protect, his to love, his to cherish, forever.

She couldn’t look away when the two of them embraced, Vegeta cupping Goku’s head with both of his hands, pulling his head down and kissing him with a passion she had no idea the man possessed. They were lost to each other, lost in their own little world, and she watched them in that world and realized this was what Goku was talking about, this was he was trying to convey to her almost two years ago.

_I feel alive with him. I feel free. He’s been by my side in so many ways and I trust him, I trust him with my life, because I know him._

Chichi watched Goku pull Vegeta up, lifting him off the ground, crushing his arms ridiculously tight around him and swinging him in a circle. Using a strength he couldn’t ever use on her, and Vegeta laughed into their kiss. Let Goku do as he wished.

_I know he’ll be there, waiting for me, watching over me, taking care of me, and it’s like…_

Their kiss ended with a gentle parting of lips. Their noses brushed. Their foreheads pressed together. Vegeta cupped the back of Goku’s head. Goku cupped Vegeta’s the same way too.

_Like I waited my whole life for him._

They whispered words in Sadalan to each other, and she smiled, sniffling, wiping at her wet cheeks. She watched Vegeta lead Goku down the aisle, Goku’s hand around Vegeta’s elbow, and she lingered behind, being the last to leave the balcony for the reception hall.

***

The evening passed by in a blur. She remembered watching Goku and Vegeta on the ballroom floor, dancing something called the _echu batwa_ , Bulma’s speech, and her own curt, meaningful speech—talking about how happy she was that Goku found his mah’kha and that they have a long, happy bond together—and she knew while short, it was perfect, just by the look Goku had on his face. She stuck to her family, chatting with Videl, playing with Pan, watching quietly with Gohan, all the while, noticing how happy and in love Goku looked the entire time. That, and how in love Vegeta looked the entire time too, in love and happy as well.

Eventually, the priestess announced it was time for the “newlyweds” to leave on their “not honeymoon,” something Chichi knew bristled Vegeta’s nerves every time, which amused her greatly. She wished Goku a safe trip, hugged and kissed him goodbye, watched him do the same with the rest of their family. She even witnessed Vegeta do the same with his family, kissing Bulma with a passion she didn’t expect the prince to have—a passion different from the one with Goku, but similar enough.

It shocked her when Vegeta came to her, while Goku was distracted saying his goodbyes to Bulma. She froze in place, because unlike with the others, he didn’t look all too happy to see her. He looked cold, aloof, just like the Saiyan she expected and knew Vegeta to be, and Chichi stood her ground, held her head high, remembering her royal training. Show no fear. Show no emotion.

Vegeta stood in front of her. Closed the gap between them. Stared right into her eyes.

Then, he smiled—a real, genuine smile—and said, “Thank you, Princess Chichi.”

She swallowed against her dry throat, asking, “For what?”

“For coming. For consenting.”

“Of course I did.” Chichi glanced at Goku for a moment, her lips curling into a tiny smile. “I’m his urave.”

Soft fingers grabbed hers.

She jerked her head forward and blushed as Vegeta lifted her hand to his lips. “Yes. You are.” He kissed the skin, never tearing his gaze away from hers. As he pulled away, he whispered, “And I am his mah’kha.”

Chichi smirked against her wishes—remembering her words from earlier in the day—and she nodded, slipping her hand out of his. “Love him well, Prince Vegeta.”

Vegeta smirked in return, turning on his heel, walking right to Goku’s side.

She watched the two of them follow the priestess down a long hallway, hand-in-hand, staying in place, even as Bulma came to her side and stood beside her. It wasn’t long until she could no longer see their figures in the distance.

A hand rested on her shoulder. “C’mon, Chichi. Let’s head back.”

Chichi took a long, deep breath. It came out as one, long, shaky exhale. “Yeah.” She nodded, the weight on her shoulders and her chest finally releasing after years of tension and build up, and she smiled—a real, true, honest smile, full of peace and tranquility. “I’m ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really couldn't let this universe go, haha. I hope you are all interested and enjoy this story as it develops going forward! :)


	2. Phase Two: Gohan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First time writing Gohan and I really hope I do him justice. Same with Videl!

At first, everything seemed normal to Gohan. Being on the Capsule Corp lawn, chatting with his mother, settling down a fussy Pan in his arms, Videl chatting with Piccolo, Eighteen and Krillin with little Marron talking to Bulma and Trunks—this was familiar to him. Normal. All of them waited for his father and Vegeta to return from their two week trip to Planet Sadala. Gohan thought nothing of it when he learned from his mom that his father was doing this trip. He only “met” the Universe 6 Saiyans in the Tournament of Power and he had no opinion on them, nor any interest in going. Not like Vegeta asked him if he was interested to begin with.

He knew his mother was anxious to see him. Always was when his father went off like this. Gohan knew even at a young age that his mother worried over so many things—if his father needed to fight some sort of bad guy, again, if he was injured in any way whatsoever, if he was actually coming back at all this time. So he stayed close by with his wife, his daughter and Piccolo, chatting her up, trying to get her mind off things. It seemed to work. She looked better. Almost calmer.

Then the cube arrived, materializing over the lawn and descending to the ground. First Whis, then Beerus, then…

Gohan’s mouth fell wide open.

This wasn’t his father. It looked like him—especially when he smiled and shouted “Hey everyone! I got gifts for ya!”—but Gohan knew. He could see it around his father, somehow. Not his ki, that was the same. His ki was stable and fine. It wasn’t even the clothes he was wearing either, with its gold straps attached to a heavy silver plating and ivory underpiece and black long sleeve undersuit and black boots—a sharp contrast to his father’s usual orange gi.

It was something else.

Something… almost _around_ him.

He followed behind his mother, hugging Pan closer to his chest. Goten was babbling away, his mother looked so happy, Videl smiled too in the corner of his vision—

Then his dad kissed his mom on the cheek, right on the corner of her lips.

Gohan suppressed his gasp.

His father never did that. Never outside of the house. Even then, his dad made sure Gohan wasn’t around before he kissed his mom. Gohan always caught tail ends of kisses, or the sounds of them. But now his father was doing it, in front of everyone.

That same weird feeling, around his father. The air changed around him. Gohan saw it. His mom saw it. Everyone else must’ve seen it too.

But then his dad became his old self, chatting with everyone, playing with Goten and Pan, eating a crazy amount of food. In between each bite, his father peppered him with questions he’d never hear from his father in the past. “How’s studying going?” “That sounds cool! Can you explain more to me about it?” “I don’t know that word, so if it’s okay, can you tell me what it means?” “Is your boss treating you right?” Questions that Gohan liked hearing, questions he enjoyed engaging in, but they were questions his dad wouldn’t really ask most of the time. Sometimes rarely. Or ever.

Gohan knew how to put up a front though. He learned it well after his father died the first time as a child, and harnessed it better when he died again after Cell. No one was the wiser or suspected anything was off when Gohan announced they were leaving, the first of the party to depart.

His father didn’t notice, of course. He swung his large arms around Gohan and Gohan responded half-heartedly, one arm around his dad’s back.

“Good to see you, son,” his dad said.

“Yeah.” He patted his dad between the shoulder blades. “You too, dad.”

His mom also didn’t notice a thing, at first fussing over him, reminding him about this and that—and then she stopped. Looked him over. Crunched up the corners of her lips into a frown. “Get more sleep too,” she ended her tirade with, but Gohan knew that tone. His mom suspected something else, something she couldn’t put her finger on, and he smiled, kissing her cheek and responding with, “I will.”

No one noticed anything strange or weird with Gohan at all. Except the two people who knew him best. Piccolo, at least, didn’t coerce him into opening up. All he had to do was give him a look—one worse than his own mother’s—and Gohan said, “Later,” and that was enough. Piccolo backed away.

Videl was a different story. At least she always waited after they were home and Pan was put to bed before she would blurt out her questions. So it wasn’t surprising to Gohan at all, when his wife asked in the comfort and quiet of their bedroom, “What’s up with you?”

“Hmm?”

“Don’t give me that.” Videl rummaged through her dresser, picking out her pajamas for the evening. “Your mystic powers picked up on something. I know when it’s that and not ki.”

Gohan smirked, removing the rest of the clothing to the ground. “Can’t get anything past you.”

“Your fault for teaching me things.” She pointed to the laundry basket in the open closet. “Clothes!”

“Yes yes, I know.” He gathered up his suit from the evening and walked across the room to dump them in. “I think… something’s wrong with dad.” Gohan shook his head, closing the closet door. “No, that’s not the right word. He’s fine. His ki isn’t off at all. He looks well rested and well fed.”

“But your mystic powers were saying otherwise,” Videl said as she finished putting on her silky pajama button-down top.

“Yeah.” He closet the closet door, his hands lingering on the knobs. “I don’t know what it is. It’s not malevolent, at least.”

“That’s good.”

“But it’s there. It’s new. And dad…” Gohan growled under his breath.

“Gohan?”

He jerked himself around, looking at Videl who laid under the covers of their bed now. “Dad is hiding it. I know it. I sensed around him these feelings of… of guilt. What did he do there that made him feel so guilty?”

Videl frowned. “You’re not projecting anything, are you?”

Gohan frowned too. “Why would I do that?”

“We’ve talked about this, Gohan. You admitted it yourself. You still resent your dad for leaving you guys for seven years. You still resent him for going off all the time to train or fight bad guys instead of being at home with your mom and little brother.” She crossed her arms. “Is it really beyond the realm of thought that you might possibly be thinking the worst of him and projecting your anger and resentment onto him?”

His attention drifted to the floor, away from the knowing, scrutinizing look Videl gave him. His arms rested by his sides as he replayed the whole afternoon again—his dad’s whole presence, his weird looks, the way he acted around his mother—

He sighed, running a hand over his face. “Maybe I am.” He walked over to the bed, shaking his head. “But I know what I felt. I know something’s different. I have a bad feeling.”

As he climbed into bed, Videl said, “You’re working yourself up. I’m not going to say it’s for nothing, though, because your usually right about these kinds of things. But you need to rest.” When she touched his forearm, he finally looked Videl in the eye, involuntarily smiling at the sight of her sweet smile. “Do your sudoku book and go to sleep, dear.”

Gohan leaned in, kissing her on the lips. “I can do that. Thank you, sweetheart.”

But doing his Sudoku puzzles didn’t help him go to sleep like usual. Neither did meditating in bed while lying on his back and performing deep breaths. He could feel something was wrong. Something was off. Even now, in his own home, something was happening out there and he had no idea why he was thinking about it. Eventually, sleep did come to him, though it wasn’t a restful one.

Then the morning came, and with it, so did the confirmation of everything Gohan felt the day before.

***

He knew that look on his mother’s face. Gohan had seen it before, after Cell and his father’s announcement of staying in Otherworld. Saw it again after Buu, when his father tried sneaking in training, when he should’ve been farming. Again, and again, he witnessed his mother hold back her anger, her grief, her tears and frustration—and it galvanized Gohan once he was older, with a child of his own, how many times his mom had that look. Even before Cell, with Frieza. With Raditz.

Time and time again, his mother held firm. She never broke. She never let the world know her real feelings. Yes, she wailed and cried on top of her lungs. Yes, she screamed and yelled into people’s faces. She was a passionate woman who cared about her children and her husband. She only wanted the best for them. Even at a young age, Gohan understood that about his mother. But the yelling, the screaming, the admonishing were all fronts, because she still let his father go about doing whatever he wanted. She still let him go to Namek. Still let him go fight Cell. Let him go be the Great Saiyaman and fight against Buu and later with the Tournament of Power. She loved him, loved Goten, loved his father so much, that she would let them do what they wished. Even though it worried her to death. Even though she’d want nothing else but for them to be a normal family for once, without the fear that one of her boys would end up injured, or worse.

So when Gohan saw that look on his mother’s face over the video phone—the same face he saw from his childhood to now, the look that only his father had the ability to put on her face—he knew before his mother said a word that his suspicions were right.

He just didn’t know how bad it actually was.

Off in the distance, he heard Videl ask, “Gohan?”

Gohan blinked his eyes open. He lifted his head from where he sat cross-legged against the outside wall of their extravagant, large home. 

Videl walked into his line of sight. “Is meditating helping any?”

He slowly shook his head no.

“Damn.” She stood before him, hands going to her hips. “I thought an hour would’ve done the trick.”

“Mm.”

“I could call Piccolo, see if he’s up for a spar.”

He sighed. “No. It’s okay.” Gohan slowly came to his feet, dusting off his pants. “I’ll get over this.”

“Uhh, no you won’t, dear.” Videl closed the gap between them. “You are doing your very best to repress your feelings and you _know_ it’s not going to help in the long run. We’ve been over this.”

“We have, but—”

“No one benefits from you hurting yourself.”

“I know, but—”

“Your dad just left your mom for another man.” She pushed one of her fingers against his broad chest. “The man that you told me killed all your friends when you were a kid and nearly killed your dad. It’s okay to feel like crap over this.”

“I _know_ that. I understand that. But I can’t mope about this.” He ran a hand through his hair, looking down to the ground. “I have to be strong for mom. And Goten. I can’t imagine what his response will be. Or anyone’s response, really.”

“It’s a lot, yes. But you matter, dear.” She wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him in, and Gohan let her, his arms coming to drape over her shoulders. Against his chest, she said, “You don’t mope, by the way. You stew in your anger.”

Gohan chuckled. “I prefer ‘ruminate.’”

“You would.” She leaned back to kiss the side of Gohan’s cheek. “Come inside. Maybe you can try meditating later.”

It was the right thing to do. Like always, Videl knew how to guide Gohan to what he needed to do, not what he wanted. He distracted himself with his young daughter, with reading the rest of the book he needed to finish for work, with helping Videl clean the house and prep for lunch later. Maybe his mother would like some company. Maybe she’d come over with Goten. Help them out in that way. Let them know they weren’t alone through this.

Two hours later, Videl called out to him from the kitchen. “Video call for you, dear! It’s Bulma!”

He nearly stumbled in his dash out of the living room. “I’ll take it in the study!” Gohan flipped open the screen on his desk. A second later, Bulma appeared on his screen, and he almost shook his head to clear his vision, because the way Bulma looked—the way she carried herself, this presence on the screen—was so vastly different from his own mother’s.

“Hey kiddo,” she said. “How’re you doing?”

Gohan took a seat in front of the video screen. “Honestly, not great.”

“Yeah. Chichi just picked up Goten, and…” A long sigh. Bulma looked away from the screen, off the distance somewhere. “It wasn’t pretty.”

“Shit.”

“Mhm. It’s why I’m calling. I wanted to check in with you and see how you’re holding up.”

“I appreciate that, but really, I should be asking _you_ that question.” He quirked a small, tiny smile. “I can’t imagine any of this being easy for you.”

The wince on Bulma’s face felt like a cold stab to Gohan’s heart. “It’s… not that bad, actually.”

He dreaded asking, “How so?”

She explained it all. How Vegeta instantly confessed to her what happened. How Vegeta explained these concepts from Planet Sadala— _urave_ and _mah’kha’or_ and _r’bhon’or_ , things Gohan didn’t care to know about, didn’t want to know about, but he listened in quietly, hearing Bulma’s explanation. How she felt when Vegeta confessed his love to her, _and_ to his father. How she was going to try to work this out, because Vegeta never would’ve acted like this in the past. He was still his normal, grumpy, proud self, but he was already much more attentive than before. 

Plus, Vegeta expressed how much he knew he was in the wrong, and that she could be angry as much as she wanted. But he wasn’t leaving her. He was going to make this work. They would all try to make this work. And she wanted to try too. She loved Vegeta, and she loved Goku, and she was going to make this work, little by little, over time.

But not his father. Not his own mother.

When Bulma finished, Gohan’s hands knotted up into tight fists, the knuckles white, his nails digging into his skin. “I see.”

“This isn’t going to be easy for any of us,” she said, “but I’m here for you guys. You, Goten and Chichi. Okay?”

He nodded. “Thank you Bulma. It’s appreciated.”

A few more pleasantries shared. The call ended with a click, the screen turning black.

Gohan thrummed in his seat with energy. He shut his eyes tight. Tempered his breathing. Inhale. _Fuck_. Hold. _Fuck_. Exhale. _Fuck fuck fuck_ —inhale. _Fuck you_. Hold. _Fuck you dad_. Exhale. _Fuck you Bulma_. Inhale. _Fuck you Vegeta_. Hold. _Fuck everything_. Exhale. _Fuck fuck fuckfuckFUCK—_

He shot out of his chair, grabbed a large book on the table and ripped it in half.

Then another.

And another.

One last book to shreds, and Gohan hissed out a long, lingering sigh, forcing his pulsing hands to unfurl by his sides. Pushing his ki back down. Suppressing the thoughts and the feelings, for now.

***

In the three months that passed, life wasn’t easier for Gohan. Even though he had a loving family, a great work environment, enjoyed what he was doing and had everything going for him, Gohan wasn’t truly okay. He wasn’t okay because he knew his mother wasn’t okay. His brother wasn’t okay.

Everyone else seemed to be okay, though. Eighteen and Krillin took the change in stride. Bulma figured out some sort of routine with Vegeta and Goku and was all smiles. Trunks appeared fine with it too. Piccolo said nothing about it to him, or anyone, but Gohan had been around his mentor and sensei long enough to know when Piccolo was and wasn’t okay with something, and it was clear to him that Piccolo accepted this situation as well.

The worst was his wife. The one person he thought would be on his side. It shocked the hell out of him the day Videl told him she wanted to take a part-time job at his father’s dojo. As much as he wanted to say no, Gohan forced out the yes, because he couldn’t let Videl or anyone know he was still sore over his father. It was nice to see her so happy, but still— 

“I’m off, dear!” Videl called from outside his office, knocking him out of his thoughts. “Dad’s got a handle on Pan, laundry’s done and folded, and dinner’s already in the fridge. Just put it in the oven later at six and I should be home around then, okay?”

He swallowed against the tightness in his throat and shouted back, “Okay!”

The sound of footsteps nearing. Videl’s ki coming closer to his office. He swiveled around in his chair just as Videl appeared and stood in the doorway, dressed in dark blue gi and a white sash. The same outfit his dad wore, apparently, just in darker colors.

“You sure you don’t want to come?” she asked.

“I have too much work, dear.”

“You always say that.”

“Because I do?” He forced a laugh out. “I’m not avoiding dad, I swear.”

“Uh-huh. You haven’t seen him since the split.”

“I called him a few days ago—”

“To ask him if he picked up Goten from your mom’s. After I explicitly asked you to that.”

He scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, that’s true.” Another forced laugh. “But I swear I’m not avoiding dad. Honest!”

“Then come with me to work.” She smiled. “You’d feel better after a spar with him.”

“Maybe next time.” He lifted up the sheet of papers, actively hiding the blank ones from her line of sight. “I have to finish this report today, but I promise, next time.”

“Okay…” Her smile waned as she turned away, giving him a parting wave. “See you later dear.”

“Have a good day!”

He waited until her ki was gone to bury his head in his hands. Hot breath blew back into his face, a long, drawn out exhale that didn’t make him feel better. His fingers ran through his hair, pulling at the ends, before dragged them down over his face, skipping over his eyelids, his cheeks, his lips.

A long, drawn out sigh, right into his palms.

Long inhale. Long exhale.

Gohan rubbed at his clammy face again, and again, and again.

***

Three more months passed. In that time, Gohan made an active effort to see his father more often. Granted, he did it when he accompanied Videl to the dojo and barely spent more than ten minutes talking to him, where conversations centered around pleasantries and stories about Pan and nothing else. But he was making an effort. Videl still harangued him to go spar with his father, and Bulma constantly asked him if he was doing okay and if he wanted to go out for coffee sometime and chat, but he didn’t want to talk about this. He was fine. He was okay. The focus wasn’t on him and shouldn’t be, but his mother now.

Goten was fine at least. Some time during the last three months, his little brother took out his anger and frustrations at their father after hours at his dojo. Videl relayed the story to him, emphasizing how it would help him too, and maybe it would. Maybe it would help more than Gohan believed. But it wasn’t about him. None of this was about him. It was about his poor mother, enduring yet another heartbreak from his neglectful, ignorant father, and his focus had to stay on her. Everyone else might’ve moved on and accepted it, but Gohan knew his mother. He knew she hadn’t yet. She was trying, she was staying cordial and nice, but Gohan knew better. Gohan knew.

The familiar sound of his cell phone ringing nearly startled him. Gohan shook his head before he reached out for it on his desk, hitting the ‘accept’ button on the screen and bringing it to his ear.

“Hello, this is Gohan.”

“Hey kiddo,” Bulma said.

“Hey Bulma. What’s up?”

“Are you alone? Is Videl home?”

His stomach twisted up. “She went off to work with dad.” Something inside his chest tightened up too. “Why?”

Bulma’s sigh only intensified his anxiety. “I have some news to share with you. I know Goku will tell Videl once she gets to his dojo, and I would call your mom to tell her myself, but… we kind of had a bad argument last time I saw her. Don’t know if she told you this or not.”

“She didn’t.”

“Ah. Okay, well… I’m calling because I figured she’d take this better after hearing it from you instead of me. Vegeta says it’s not the right word to describe what happened, but it’s the only one that makes sense, so…”

She cleared her throat.

Gohan held his breath.

He almost dropped his phone when Bulma said, “Vegeta proposed to your dad last night.”

***

A Saiyan thing. That was how Bulma ultimately described it. They were already ‘mates’—mah’kha’or as it was called in Sadalan—but Vegeta asked his father to be ‘more’ than that. Like a wedding, but not, because Vegeta apparently was already married to his dad. But this meant something different. Something formal and more meaningful in a way Gohan didn’t understand and didn’t care or want to understand. It didn’t matter that it would take a while for the ‘not wedding’ to happen, since Whis and Beerus were busy elsewhere, and apparently they needed to ask the King of Sadala to have the ceremony on his planet, so who knew when it would occur. None of that mattered.

Videl was all smiles when she came home. Goten was all smiles when he talked to him over the phone. Only his mother reacted the most ‘normal’ to him. He knew she was hurt over the phone. He knew she was covering it up. He was ready to not go, to have Videl be the representative of their family, but when his mother asked him to attend— _I don’t want people thinking you didn’t go because of me poisoning your mind_ —that was enough to make him agree. Yes, it would show his dad that both of his sons love and support him, but that didn’t matter as much as doing this for his mother.

Later on in the evening, after dinner was done and Videl was off putting Pan to bed, his phone rung again. This time, Gohan checked to see the caller ID. 

His father’s name read across the screen.

He hesitated until the last second to push the ‘accept’ button and hold it to his ear. “Hey dad.”

“Hey Gohan. How are you?”

“Good. Just finished dinner and I have to clean the dishes now.”

“Oh, okay, I won’t keep you long.” He heard a sigh, the hesitation in his father’s voice. “I was wondering if you heard about, um, Vegeta and me?”

“Yeah. Bulma told me.”

“Cool.” A beat of silence. His father’s voice lowered. “Do you think you’ll make it?”

He forced himself to answer quickly: “Yep.” Forced out a cheerful tone in his response too. “Wouldn’t miss it, dad.”

“That’s great! Awesome! Oh man, thanks Gohan. I’m so glad you can come.”

His teeth ground together. “Yeah, no problem. I gotta get going now.”

“Oh, sure, of course! Give Pan a big hug for me, okay? Have a good night!”

“You too.”

Gohan hung up and threw his phone across the kitchen counter.

A second later, he punched the wall, leaving a large, cracking dent in its wake. 

***

Six months later, Beerus and Whis went off to Universe 6 with the request to King Sadala from Vegeta. When they would arrive back with an answer, no one knew. But Gohan knew he had to prepare. He had to put on a face and watch his father and Vegeta in a ceremony in front of a bunch of Saiyans. He would need to stay calm, be focused, maintain composure and not tip off anyone there of his true feelings. Especially his father and his brother. They, most of all, couldn’t know how he felt.

So after a year of not taking up his wife’s advice on sparring, he finally did so. But not with his father. He wasn’t ready for that.

“C’mon, Gohan,” Piccolo shouted from above. He aimed a yellow light in his direction. “You can do better than that!”

Gohan easily batted it away. And the next one. And the next. Piccolo made him use his brain and his brawn at the same time, causing Gohan to maneuver around attacks, strategize when to strike and how to pull out ahead in their spar. Maybe even catch Piccolo by surprise, something Gohan rarely was able to do with his old sensei.

His offensive attacks outweighed his defensive ones. But they lacked aim and precision, the things Gohan usually possessed. He wasn’t thinking clearly, wasn’t fighting normally. He tried regaining his bearings a few times by hiding behind some stones, shaking his head and rubbing his eyes, and that occasionally helped. But he was still sloppy. Still mindlessly throwing ki attacks when he should’ve blocked or held back his power.

Piccolo growled from a few feet below him, pointing a clawed finger right to his face. “Focus, dammit! Channel your energy right!”

Gohan blocked the next ki attack. Blocked the next one too. Aimed for a solar flare, but Piccolo caught him off guard, elbowing him right in the middle of his back. He recovered quick with a roundhouse kick, but Piccolo caught it and spun Gohan around, using his momentum to fling him away.

A burst of ki, and Gohan stopped mid-air. He flipped around, hands side to side up over his head, ready to release a Masenko—

Piccolo shook his head. “Enough.” He sliced the air in front of him with his arm. “We’re done.”

“What? Why?”

“Your heart isn’t in this today.”

Gohan frowned. He powered down out of his Mystic form while scratching the side of his face. “Yeah. You’re right. Sorry.” He followed Piccolo down out of the air, back down to the wasteland below. “I have a lot on my mind lately.”

“Tch.” Piccolo crossed his arms. “More like the last year.”

His lips twitched up into a smile. “That obvious, huh?”

Piccolo smiled back.

Gohan looked away, down to the ground. Sweat dripped down the sides of his face to his neck. The cool wind felt good, needed against his clammy skin.

Exhaustion washed over him as he collapsed backwards, landing on a large rock. He sat on the edge, head flopped down, arms hanging between his legs.

A large sigh.

Piccolo stood beside him. Gohan could feel his eyes staring right at him.

He wiped at his face. His neck, the sides, the back of it. Slid his hands into his hair, pulled at the ends, and then sighed again, his arm flopping back on top of his thigh.

“I don’t hate dad for what he did,” Gohan said. “I truly don’t. Videl says he seems happier, and I’m glad about that. But he hurt mom again, Piccolo. He cheated on her with Vegeta, and somehow Bulma was okay with it! I feel bad saying this, but I was a little glad Goten initially got angry over this. But he’s moved on too. It’s for the best, really, that he did. It wouldn’t have been healthy for him. But how can Bulma be okay with this? How did Vegeta convince her? How did he get my dad to fall for him to begin with? Hell, how could my _dad_ fall for Vegeta of all people? They seemed happy together for so long. Mom sacrificed so much. She gave dad _everything_ , every piece of herself, and he spat it back in her face. I don’t hate dad for what he did. I don’t want to hate anyone, really. But I can’t help it. Vegeta stole my dad from my mom. I know logically they are both at fault, but it’s how I feel. Vegeta took my dad away, hurt my mom and broke my family. I’m still going to go to Sadala and witness their ceremony on behalf of my mom. She asked me to. I won’t tip off dad either that I don’t approve of their union. It’s still his day and he deserves to be happy. But I don’t think I will ever approve of dad’s relationship. Not for what they did to mom.”

Shifting of clothing. Footsteps on dirt.

Piccolo’s body pressed up against his as he sat on the rock too.

“So that’s the story Chichi told you,” he said.

Gohan jerked his head up, snapping it right in Piccolo’s direction.

Beside him, Piccolo looked right at him and said, “Your mother is one side of the story. Why don’t you ask your father what happened—or if not him, Vegeta?”

A laugh ripped out of Gohan against his will. He shook his head. “Yeah, right. Vegeta would never talk about his feelings to me, let alone anything about what happened on Sadala with dad. Not in a million years.”

“He did when I asked.”

Gohan’s mouth dropped wide open. It gaped like a fish out of water for a moment before he was able to ask, “He did?”

Piccolo shrugged, turning his attention away from Gohan to look out in the distance of the wasteland. A good burst of wind caused his antennae to sway and move. “You have to find your peace over this. I had my doubts too when I first learned about their relationship. But after speaking with Vegeta, I not only accepted it, but I firmly believe them being together is the best thing that’s happened to them both.” He smirked. “Honestly, if I was allowed to go, I would.”

He blinked slowly. Closed his mouth slowly too. Gohan turned his attention away, out to the distance as well.

Another gust of cool wind. Dust picked up, twirling up into the sky.

Under his breath, Gohan muttered, “I’ll… try, Mr. Piccolo.”

Piccolo chuckled. “Good.” He rose up to his feet from the rock, walking off into the distance. “Get up. You owe me a decent spar.”

Gohan smiled—a small, little smile—as he followed suit, rising from the rock as well.

***

Six months later, the day of the ‘not wedding’ arrived. Gohan appeared on time with Videl and Pan on the Capsule Corp lawn. At the cube stood Whis and Beerus, along with Bulma and Trunks, with Bra on her hip. He wasn’t surprised when Goten finally showed up, alone, with his mother. It was expected, though it did hurt seeing the disappointment on his little brother’s face. They all entered the cube, waiting for his father and Vegeta to emerge so they could finally get going and get this over with.

He stayed impassive when he watched his father and Vegeta walk hand-in-hand to the cube. Didn’t grimace or sneer when they kissed, or when his father looked at Vegeta in a way he never saw him do with his mother—absolute sheer adoration and love. It was harder though to hold in his gasp of shock when he saw a _similar_ look on Vegeta’s face, but he stopped himself cold before anyone in the cube could notice.

But he couldn’t hold it back when he felt a familiar ki zooming towards Capsule Corp. Gohan let loose his large gasp when his mother emerged from the hover car, her hair in disarray like her clothing, yelling on top of her lungs, “Wait! Don’t go yet!”

Goten’s happy shout nearly made Gohan smile. “Mom! You’re here! You made it!”

He couldn’t hear the exchange his mother and his father said on the cube’s ramp. But it warmed his heart to see his father kiss his mother’s cheek and look at her the way Gohan remembered growing up. A look that spoke of the love his father possessed for his mom. A love that was very, very different from the one he possessed for Vegeta, and somehow, someway, that felt okay. That was fine.

Gohan waited until everyone was on board and the cube floated up into the air, heading towards a portal of blue-violent light. Once they entered the tunnel, Gohan came up to his mother’s side and whispered into her ear, “What changed your mind?”

She smiled at him before turning her attention to Goku, who was standing right beside Vegeta, chatting animatedly with him. “I realized that there’s a part of Goku that belongs to me alone. A part that doesn’t belong to Vegeta.” She returned her attention back to Gohan. “I needed to show him that I am his urave and I always will be.”

Something snapped in Gohan, something that brought tears to his eyes, and he hid them behind a big, big smile and a whisper of, “Okay mom.”

Chichi kissed his cheek and he hugged her tight, chuckling when Goten threw one arm around each of their legs and hugged them all tight too.

***

The Sadalan outfit they offered Gohan to wear didn’t look comfortable at all. Putting it on only confirmed his thoughts. It fit fine, but there were places that felt snug and tight. He would deal with it though, considering what happened before with himself and his mother. Especially his mother, who blew up right in Vegeta’s face, in front of the royal court and Goku and both families. But seeing his mother’s unbridled, pent-up anger—anger that simmered under the surface for the last year and a half—was the final straw for Gohan.

It was why he took the Sadalan outfit with grace and gratefulness. Why he wore it and didn’t complain at all about how it felt. Why he sat in the room with his brother, his mother, his wife and his daughter, waiting for his dad to emerge for his ceremony to Vegeta.

What he said to his mother earlier wasn’t just a pithy statement. He meant it.

_It’s time to move on._

The couch dipped beside him. He turned and found Videl there, holding their sleeping daughter in her arms, smiling from ear to ear.

“I’m glad you spoke up,” she said.

“Me too.”

“Told you sparring would’ve helped. It did after you sparred Piccolo.”

“I know, I know.” He leaned in, kissing her cheek. “The wife is always right.”

“Eh, not always. Just this time.” She winked, rising from the couch.

The couch dipped on the other side of him, and he turned to find Goten there in similar Sadalan armor, grinning just like their father would. “Can you believe it? Are you excited? What do you think will happen, big brother? Didja see there’s so many people out there?”

Gohan nodded. “Yeah, there’s lots of people, huh buddy?”

“Ya huh! I can’t believe it!”

Beside him, Pan stirred awake, releasing small little whines and gurgles. Videl sat up from the couch, leaving Gohan with his brother. He hugged Goten to him, giving him a kiss to the top of his head.

Goten hugged him in return, snuggling up to his side.

He almost missed the faint murmur from his brother, words that struck Gohan in the chest hard: “Thanks for sticking up for dad.”

Gohan eyed his mother’s stoic frame on the far side of the room, where she stood in front of the window in a gorgeous red dress, her back turned to them. He looked back down to Goten, ready to answer back, but the sound of a door opening stopped him short.

When he looked up from the couch, he found his father entering the room with Princess Chikora, in a totally new outfit from before. Golden shoulder pads and bright white breastplate glinted in the waning sunlight from outside, as did the gold wrist guards and gold long-sleeve top and bottoms. Three ankle-length white pieces of leather attached to a large gold belt adorned with oval-shaped red gems all spaced out wide from each other.

He looked regal. As illuminating as the sun itself.

Scared, too. Scared, but excited at the same time.

Goten bounded off the couch, running right up to Goku, shouting how good their father looked. Gohan waited until the moment was right, when Goten was done with their father, when Chikora was far away from him, to then approach the man. Hearing Trunks and Bulma’s voices from the other room proved helpful. It distracted Chikora and had her leave the room entirely.

He took his time walking up to his father. Words and phrases passed through his mind, one after the other, a jumbled puzzle he tried to figure out. _I’m sorry_ wasn’t good enough. _I’m happy for you_ wasn’t either. _I love you, dad_ might’ve been okay, but not now, not after what had happened earlier.

Once in front of his father, Gohan licked his lips, open his mouth and said, “Dad, I’m— _oof!_ ”

Strong arms crushed him to a broad chest. Warm skin. Familiar smell. Those arms lifted him up off the ground a little, a small wheeze pushing out of him, and the arms let loose a little, easing up on their strength. But they didn’t let go. They held him.

A warmth curled around him. Something different than the warm arms that held him tight, or the light from the window. A warmth that reminded Gohan of that weird feeling he had a year and a half ago, when he saw his dad emerge from the cube then. Something he couldn’t put his finger on, but it didn’t upset him like it did then. It didn’t put him on edge.

That warm feeling matched the warm tone in his father’s voice. “I know you still have doubts, but I’m so grateful you still came.” A kiss pressed to Gohan’s temple. “Thank you, Gohan. Thank you.”

Slowly, Gohan returned the embrace, wrapping his arms around his father’s waist. Not as strong as his father’s hug, but a hug nonetheless.

He muttered against his shoulder with a tremble in his voice, “I’m sorry.”

Soft fingers touched his shoulder. “Honey.” Videl’s voice. Videl’s body, next to his. “What did I say? We’ve been over this.”

Gohan sniffled, clearing his voice. “You’re right.” He lifted his head from his father’s shoulders and stepped away, their mutual embraces releasing. He met his father’s eye, felt the warmth around him and the warmth he saw there, and said with sincerity, “I’m happy for you, dad. Really.” He smiled—a tiny, watery smile. “You’ll do great out there.”

“And if you forget something,” Videl said, pressing more up against Gohan, shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip, “who cares, you’re getting married!”

The sound of his wife’s giggle, and his father’s joyous laugh, pushed the rest of the tension inside Gohan away. He watched his father kiss his wife’s temple, kiss his daughter’s forehead, smiling when Pan tried reaching for his hair to pull. Gohan watched it all, his wife, his daughter, and his father, and knew it was going to be okay. This was okay. He was okay.

Chikora returned, announcing it was time. He waited for her, Videl and Goten to leave first, before looking at his father one last time before taking his seat. His mother still stood at the window, still stared out at the thousands of Saiyans entering through the palace walls, but he caught her expression—the very slither of it—and the sight made him smile.

She looked at peace. Sad, yes, understandably so. But at peace.

He looked to his dad next and saw the same peace there as well. Scared, excited, and at peace too.

Gohan nodded to his father, following his little brother, wife and daughter out of the room.


End file.
